The Fortune of Fools
by People Person I'm Not
Summary: Hundreds of years after the Battle of Five Armies, two dwarves meet accidentally, and their paths, both past and future, change.


The blond dwarf shook his head in annoyance. He had narrowly escaped a cave-in earlier that day in the mines, and now he was in trouble with the higher-ups under the mountain, who irrationally believed that because he was the sole survivor he had caused the cave-in. He couldn't understand how, but the fact still stood that he was under suspicion. He had been ordered to appear in Erebor's court as soon as possible. He just needed to clean himself up first, so he was all but running back to his room in an attempt to make it there and back again as quickly as he could.

He was rushing through the halls and wasn't really watching where he was going, and so the blond slammed hard into another dwarf, who ended up falling on the floor. The blond started to apologize, but went mute with shock upon seeing just who he had hit.

The dwarf was dark-haired, one of the highest-ranking generals in Erebor's army, a great commander who had won many victories for the mountain kingdom against many enemies of many races. And now he was lying sprawled on the ground where he had fallen.

The blond managed to stutter endless apologies, hands shaking as he rushed to help the dark-haired dwarf back up and off the ground.

"What's your name?" the general asked as he regained his feet.

"F-fili..." the blond replied, terrified. Would the general lash out against him?

"Named for the great warrior, the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, who died in reclaiming Erebor?" the dark-haired dwarf murmured. "It's a noble name. And so, Fili, where are you off to in such a rush?"

Fili looked down at his feet. "Back to my rooms to tidy up before I have to appear in court." He swallowed hard. "The higher-ups insist that I caused a cave-in earlier today just because I was the only one to make it out alive."

The general furrowed his brow, looking incredulous, but then shook his head and his face returned to its former impassive expression. "Go on then, Fili."

* * *

An hour later Fili stood nervously in front of the court, legs jelly and fingers toying nervously with the hem of his best tunic, a finely made piece for a worker in the mines, an almost regal piece in dark maroon and grey. He barely heard the charges brought against him, barely heard any of his trial, such were his nerves, until an impetuous voice rang out loud and clear, echoing in the hall.

"You can't blame someone for a cave-in," the voice boomed, and Fili dropped his head into his hands. The voice belonged to the dark-haired general he had knocked to the ground earlier. "Just because he was the only dwarf to survive does not mean that the cave-in was his fault. This trial is completely ridiculous. Release him to me."

The court murmured for a moment or so, then the judge stood. "He is all yours, general."

Fili shifted slightly, nervous. He was now at the mercy of the general, who gestured for him to follow out of the courtroom.

He followed nervously, several feet behind. He wasn't of a status with the general, couldn't walk beside him. It wasn't proper, it wasn't done. Heavens forbid.

The general turned, a stormy expression on his face. "Keep up, Fee!" he ordered, then tipped his head. "Fili. Sorry."

Fili's breath had hitched upon hearing the nickname Fee. No one had ever called him that in his life, but it somehow felt right, especially coming from the general.

"Coming?"

Fili quickly caught up with the general, unsure of how to react. He couldn't talk to the other dwarf, but walking in silence felt uncomfortable.

Before too long, however, they reached the general's suite of rooms. Fili was ushered in and led to a sitting area. The decorations were like none he had ever seen before, a collection of weapons instead of anything more normal. Despite having never handled anything that could even possibly be a weapon, beside a pickax, in his life, Fili felt as though, handed the right one, he could use them as they were meant to be used. More than any of the others, a perfectly matched set of double swords called to him.

"They're the swords of your namesake," the general said when he noticed Fili looking at them. "Fili of Durin's double swords. He was a deadly, ferocious warrior, deadly on his own, but even more so when paired with his brother Kili."

Fili's heart ached at hearing that name. It was not one he was familiar with, but at the same time it almost meant more to him than his own name. It awakened a sense of longing and one of unparalleled loss in him, the loss of his other half. He felt somehow that this was the same feeling he would be experiencing had he lost an arm, or a leg, or maybe half his soul. Kili. He needed him.

Fili shook his head roughly. He was an only child. What madness had overcome him? Perhaps he was trying to become the Fili of legend, which was ridiculous. He was only a simple miner. It was not his place to try and emulate a hero.

The general was watching Fili closely, and Fili's face burned with embarrassment. Here he was, in the presence of a real hero, trying to become one himself, one who had lived and died hundreds of years earlier. He was going mad, he had to be.

"They...they're gorgeous blades," Fili muttered. "I think. I know nothing about swords."

"They are gorgeous blades," the general agreed easily. "As sharp as the day you...Fili...forged them."

"He forged them himself?" Fili asked, but he already knew the answer. A phantom memory danced at the edge of his mind, just out of his reach. The heat of the forge, his brother beside him casting arrowheads, his uncle nearby, coaching him on.

"I'm losing my mind," Fili muttered.

* * *

**So...what do you think? Review and let me know!**


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